


Hope and Stolen Kisses

by spelledink



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hope, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 03:45:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spelledink/pseuds/spelledink
Summary: The night Andrea gets fired in Paris, she returns to Miranda's room. She finds hope for the future, despite her aching heart.





	Hope and Stolen Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a side-piece to my other DWP story, "The Road to Us."
> 
> It doesn't quite fit in sequence with the rest of "A Love's Journey" because of the happy ending at the end of "The Road to Us", so that's why this story is on its own.

**Hope and Stolen Kisses**

**A Devil Wears Prada fanfiction**

**This story is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.**

** The Devil Wears Prada ** **is the property of Lauren Weisberger and 20 th Century Fox.**

 

 

The suite room in the Hôtel Plaza Athénée was dark. Andy Sachs lay on the bed, her clothes scattered on the floor. A bottle of Pinot Noir on the nightstand. She sat up, clad in black La Perla panties, a matching silk chiffon slip covering her breasts.

She looked at the clock next to the bottle. A little after two in the morning. The room was silent. No traffic in the hallways outside. Andy sighed, reaching for the bottle. She tilted it up, taking a drink.

_This is it. My last night with Runway. My last night near… her._

Andy shook her head. “I’d have given anything, if she’d just wanted to spend it with me. Even if all she wanted was a quick fuck.”

Andy thought about who lay next door, in the adjoining room.

_Miranda._

The older woman had done a good job of tearing Andy down. Eviscerating the brunette with her acid tongue and icy glare.

“You’re nothing…” she had said.

Andy’s only reply was tears.

_Maybe that’s so. Yet why is it I still love her? Would still do anything to make her happy?_

Andy chuckled. “Oh well, maybe this will do the trick,” she said. “Maybe she just wants me gone. Maybe losing the inconvenient lesbian will help her move on to the next Mr. Priestly.”

“Did I really miss something?” Andy asked. “I thought she cared. That at least we were friends.”

Andy thought of all the days and nights she’d spent at the editor’s house. Helping her children with homework. Playing video games. Eating dinner. Holding her hand.

Baring her heart and soul with each shared glance.

Each touch, each gesture repeating the same thing…

“I love you.”

_Could I have been that wrong? Sometimes, the way we touched, the way she looked at me, I could see something. Hidden, deep inside.  That I meant something to her. That I was… important._

Andy sighed, the wine sour on her tongue.

_I can’t give up, not yet. It’s… it’s like I know we’re meant to be. That we fit together._

_Like two halves of one broken heart, needing only a bit of glue._

“I have to try,” she whispered. “Because a life without her is… unacceptable.”

Andy’s lips curved into a small smile. “I guess she’s not the only one who lives on hope,” she said. “Because she’s mine.”

_All I hope for. All I dream of. All I want._

_And everything I’ll fight for._

Andy looked at the door to Miranda’s room. The deadbolt thrown shut.

A barrier.

An obstacle.

Or was it a gateway?

A passage to something better?

A challenge?

Andy rose to her feet, crossing to the portal. Unlocking it.

The room beyond was dark. The glow of Paris streetlights the only illumination.

Miranda lay upon the couch within. Asleep. Still wrapped in her gray robe. A half-empty bottle of scotch forgotten upon the floor.

Andy looked at Miranda. Her hair a crown of frost upon her head. Her legs revealed beneath the robe that bunched around her hips. Her lips a blushing rose amidst the pale perfection of her face.

“Miranda…” Andy whispered. She stepped forward, falling to her knees.

“I won’t leave you again,” she said. “Not without taking something.”

_Something for me. Something for my heart._

_Some warm memory. Like a treasure, when all else is winter._

Andy leaned close to Miranda, gently capturing her lips. A thrill ran through the brunette, a flare of joy as she took her prize.

Three kisses.

Gentle.

Aching.

The promise of a love deferred.

Andy whispered as her lips traced Miranda’s.

“One kiss, for remembrance, that my heart is yours.”

“Two, for courage, to win you back.”

“Three, for goodbye, until we meet again.”

“Because when we do, I never want to leave you,” she said.

 She knelt there, watching the shadows play on her love’s face.

A gentle flame growing in her heart.

A belief.

That something better lay beyond this night, no matter how long the road.

That somehow, someway, this was not the end.

Only a change of scene.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
